


The End of All Your Lines

by arabmorgan



Series: Kink Meme Fills [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Ghosts, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 18:17:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8633314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabmorgan/pseuds/arabmorgan
Summary: Tony doesn't stay gone.





	

Tony Stark returns from Siberia in a box.

He also returns as something more, but no one realises this until much later.

In light of the devastating tragedy, the Accords are temporarily shelved, and the Avengers – because that is what they still are to the general public, their all-American heroes – return to pay their last respects.

James Barnes remains in Wakanda in cryostasis, oblivious.

It is not a state funeral. Instead, Black Sabbath blares from the outdoor speakers.

No repairs have been arranged for the Compound, so they end up moving back into the Tower, because so many of them have nowhere else to go. Only Scott and Clint make their excuses and return to their families.

None of them know who or where Spider-Man is.

Nor do they see hide or hair of Pepper and Rhodey after the funeral, but no one is surprised.

Sam spends a lot of time in his room, soothing FRIDAY as best he can. Even weeks after Tony’s life signs faded from her sensors, she remains shaky and uncertain.

“Is Boss coming back?” she asks repeatedly, even though she knows better.

In the end, it is Natasha who finds Tony, because they need to decide what to do about everything in his workshop, and Steve is in no condition to set foot down there.

Dum-E and U roll up to her, whirring in welcome and confusion. They have been good; not a speck of dust is to be seen on the multitude of open spaces.

Everything is in careless disarray, tools and parts scattered about within easy reach – the workspace of a man who walked away with every intention of returning.

And there he is, sitting on a stool, gently swinging his legs back and forth. Very faintly, she can see the pale white outline of the table through his torso, flickering with every movement he makes as if glimpsed through deep water.

He casts no shadow.

Natasha feels faint. It is nothing at all like the time she lost two pints of blood and almost passed out.

“Tony,” she says, and she is surprised to hear the tremor in her own voice.

He turns, and she feels even fainter.

He looks almost exactly like the last time she saw him, navy vest over white shirt, red tie knotted loosely around his throat from too much frustrated tugging.

A look of absolute surprise passes over his face when he sees her, before a smile of complete joy lights him from within. He stands and seems to walk-glide over to her side.

She just stands there, not knowing what to do.

Tears prickle at her eyes when he touches the back of her hand, and that single action is more comforting than she should be allowed to feel.

Tony feels delicate, almost wispy, but somehow there is a warmth in his contact, a smooth, velvety sensation that isn’t all there. She turns her hand, feeling his palm in hers, but her fingers slide through air when she tries to squeeze.

“Tony,” she repeats, and chokes on his name when she tries to say it again.

The sight of her sorrow tempers his smiles, but he follows her upstairs eagerly, and that makes her wonder if he has been sitting in his workshop all this time, unaware of the days sliding by around him.

His mind too is but a shadow of its previous self. Wanda can glean little from it, save a comforting sense of tranquillity and a strong affection for them all.

It takes weeks for her to stop crying every time Tony wanders into a room that she is in. Often, he will simply sit quietly beside her until her sniffles trail away and she opens her mind to his persistent fondness.

Steve babbles to him a lot, a lament in apologies that he isn’t even sure Tony wholly cares about.

Tony only ever smiles at him, unless he cries, and then Tony looks so terribly sad that it only makes him sob harder.

In later days, when Steve curls up on the couch with a book in hand, Tony seems to enjoy leaning against his bulk, a barely-there whisper of comfort that he risks dislodging with any overzealous move.

Sometimes, it feels like Tony is reading along with him.

Vision is the only one who can really touch Tony. He wraps Tony up in hugs and holds his hand tightly, which makes Tony more radiant than ever.

Sam doesn’t see Tony so much; there wasn’t as much of a bond between them, before.

Occasionally, Tony will drop by anyway, just to have a look at what Sam’s doing or to sit around while he does whatever. When that happens, Sam will describe Tony to FRIDAY – what he is doing, what he is wearing, the expression on his face.

How he reacts to her voice.

It seems cruel that a single stone should make all the difference between solidity and invisibility, but Dum-E and U can’t see Tony either.

Pepper and Rhodey make only one trip to the Tower. This final meeting seems to give them some modicum of peace, and when they leave it is easier to put their grief behind them.

The Avengers don’t want to put Tony behind them.

He continues to be there, a serene presence whether they are training or watching a movie together, and eventually he is as much a part of the team as he ever was.

They hardly have to think about it anymore when they brush past him casually, reaching out for gentle pats on the shoulder, if only to watch him light up with a happiness as pure as the first day he trailed out of his workshop after Natasha.

They always leave him a seat at mealtimes. He never misses a single one, his elbows resting on the countertop as he watches each of them in turn.

Whenever they return from a mission, the first thing they do is to call his name to let him know they are home.

At times, he will disappear for days without warning, and someone will go down to his workshop to retrieve him from where he sits, swinging his legs from his stool, having forgotten the passing of time.

He never speaks, rarely expresses any emotion other than the simplest happiness or sadness, but somehow he never feels like a caricature.

He is just their Tony, his undiluted essence, more at peace than ever before, surrounded by the family he had helped to stitch together.

And so life goes on.

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this made me really sad. Sorry :(
> 
> A fill for [this prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/21438.html?thread=54246078#t54246078):
>
>> An avenger dies, but when everyone gathers in the tower they find the dead avenger's ghost haunting them. It is a translucent image of it's former self, silent, and always there. It is also friendly and reassuring, just wants to hang out with you, and if you don't press too hard you can touch it and it is warm and velvety feeling. Everyone just goes with it. Life goes on.


End file.
